


Capital B

by hazelandglasz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Puns & Word Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:43:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with Sophia's (http://weekendship.tumblr.com/post/67244725189/did-somebody-order-coffee-shop-au-no-well) drawings <br/>And I just ran with it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capital B

* * *

 

At first, Stiles dragged Scott to the Coffee Pack because they both needed the caffeine to study and to get over their shitty day(s).

Then, it became sort of a tradition for them, to go to the small coffee shop after school to get their daily dose of caffeine and sweets.

And _then_ , they were unable to stay away from the place because of the people making it alive.

As far as Stiles is concerned, there is no better things in life than a cupcake - or two - or five -, rich and sweet and yet perfectly balanced, to munch on while he satisfies another kind of hunger.

One a little bit more carnal.

From his vantage point at the counter, Stiles has the perfect view on the kitchen - and what’s more is that the kitchen is separated from the public space by half a glass wall; it’s more than he needs to oggle on the delicious thing that is not on the menu but that Stiles wants to devour nonetheless.

The Baker.

Yes, capital B.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, he’s so, so muscular he looks like a Greek statue and it’s not even funny, he always has a stubble on his chiselled jaw and Stiles wants to see if it’s rough or if it’s soft and he has the most passionate look in his green eyes whenever he starts working the icing.

Oh God have mercy.

It’s like he’s balancing strength and caring gestures, but it makes the muscles in his arms bulge nonetheless and if it takes Stiles to eat all of their stock of cupcakes to see him making more, then it’s a sacrifice that Stiles is ready to make.

—-

At first, Scott is not entirely convinced.

Stiles, on caffeine ? If that doesn’t spell Mayday, Scott doesn’t know what would.

But it’s easy to see that Stiles doesn’t drink coffee, only hot cocoa, and from the way his eyes brighten up whenever the Baker (yes, capital B) comes to refill the showcases with cupcakes, Scott assumes that he’s not going to have to deal with a hyper caffeinated Stiles.

Plus, he has other matters to take care off.

Numero uno on his list : make the cute barista smile.

And that’s not an easy feat.

The first time he served them their drinks, Scott was struck by how angelic the boy (man ?) looked.

He reminded him of a Preraphaelite painting (totally nailing the general knowledge department), with his beautiful face and his full lips and his clear eyes and soft curls …

Okay, so maybe Scott has a crush on the Brooding Barista (capital Bs, again), but more than anything, he wants to chase the cloud that appears in the blue eyes sometimes, when he thinks that nobody is watching - or, you know, when he’s preparing their drinks and keeps his eyes on the steam.

Scott wishes he had any form of talent in photography to capture the ephemeric quality of those moments (totally nailing the vocabulary department too, boy he’s on a roll).

But as it is, he has no talent whatsoever, except in making stupid jokes and being careful of his friends’ well being.

Sure, Brooding Barista is not exactly his friend, but he could be, and Scott cares for him anyway.

At first, he tries bringing a smile on the barista’s face by asking for a coffee with a side of smile, which only makes the tall man looking bored as he pours the drink.

Then, Scott tries to get him to smile by telling him to give him whatever he fancies “because I know what _I_ fancy”.

Which leads him to find out that he hates, loathes, dislikes with a burning passion a white coffee made of decaffeinated coffee and soy milk.

Eurgh.

On the other hand, now Scott knows what a real coffee tastes like, opposite to the creamy and sugary confections he used to ask. What’s more, it gives him a new appreciation of the cupcakes and cookies they sell in the window cases.

But now, it’s time for Scott to use the big guns.

He will make the Barista smile even if he has to die of embarrassment on the inside.

As the young man grounds some beans - they arrived at a rather quiet time, and the coffee shop is filled with the smell of coffee and baking cookies, not with clients -, Scott sits at the bar.

"I think I know your favorite drink", he says, his usual crooked grin in place.

The other man raises one eyebrow but keeps his eyes on the beans.

"Despresso - you seem so sad all the time," Scott provides, his tone wistful.

Now both eyebrows are reaching for the Barista’s hairline.

At least that counts as a reaction.

"I think I know your favorite Beatles song," he continues - he has spent the whole night making up this shit.

Brooding Barista turns his head to look at him with a frown - he looks like he’s trying to determine if Scott is only daft, or genuinely annoying.

"Latte be !" Scott says, and Stiles snickers on his stool facing the kitchen doorway.

Barista shakes his head, and wow, the curls bounce so beautifully …

"I’m curious," Scott says, leaning his head on his closed fist, "do you guys have … the grounds to operate in the black ?"

Ah, there is the ghost of a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of the Barista’s lips.

"Being a Barista must have its perks," Scott continues, not caring that Stiles is about to fall to the ground and that the Baker is leaning against the counter, listening to him as he babbles his stupid jokes. "I mean, I should _bean_ so luck.”

The hint of a ghost of smile turns into the beginning of a crooked smile and Scott was right, he knew he was right : the Barista looks even more stunning when he smiles.

Moving on.

"I hope I’m not annoying you," Scott says, leaning forward with his best puppy eyes turned on, "I don’t want you to lose your … tamper," he delivers the punch line with a wink and immediately starts worrying his lower lip when the other man turns his back on him.

His worry doesn’t last long, though, when a giggle comes from the Barista.

He wanted a smile, but if he earns a laugh, that’s even better.

Isn’t there something about making the man of your thoughts laugh ?

—-

Around the 5th cupcake and Scott’s second terrible pun, the Baker comes out of the kitchen, a curious look on his face.

"Can I have one of those ?" Stiles asks eyeing the large plate of fresh cupcakes in his hand - his beautiful, large, manly hand, gosh it would look so good on him, around him, in him …

"Stiles, this is, like, your 6th or 7th cupcake - today," Bashful Baker says with a twist of his mouth and Stiles nods eagerly - okay, so maybe he’s high on sugar.

Or is he high on luuuuve ?

Beautiful Baker sighs and puts one in front of Stiles nonetheless. “Last one, Stiles,” he says with a warning, but there is a crooked smile right there in the scruff.

Beatific Baker (yes, Stiles has made a whole list of adjectives starting with a b that could apply to the Baker inhabiting his dreams) arranges the cupcakes in the show case before looking up and turning his attention to Scott and his ridiculous attempt at wooing the Barista.

Stiles is about to choke on the cupcake - and what a crime it would be, this one is _sinful_ \- but the Baker smiles at Scott’s jokes.

And it’s not a judging smile or anything - it’s a fond smile.

Well, if he likes puns, he’s in for a wild ride.

"I was wondering, " Stiles says as he plays with the crumbs in his plate, and Bonzer Baker turns to face him once again, "do you need to take on many … rolls, as a baker ?"

The tall man cocks one eyebrow at him. “You can’t be serious,” he mutters, taking a step away from the counter.

"Do you check how your business is doing by making pie charts ? I’m great at pie charts," Stiles continues, leaning forward to compensate.

Best Baker (ok, he never said his list was long) shakes his head and huffs, but there is the beginning of a smile in his eyes.

"If we got married," Stiles says, not caring about the blush on his face at the thought (even less caring when he spots a hint of pink under the scruff), "you would definitely be the bread winner, wouldn’t you ?"

The other man is smiling, but he seems incredulous. “Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you ?” he asks and Stiles smiles back.

"what can I say," Stiles replies, holding his face up with both his hands, "I guess I’m a gluten for punishment."

The Baker takes a step to lean against the counter and by Mario and all the plumbers, Stiles can smell the sweet scent of the caramel on the cupcakes mixed with something more — natural, more — manly.

He’s going to swoon.

"You know," the Baker says with his voice lowered down, as if he’s telling a secret, "one would say that you coming in every day, to devour my cupcakes is a … recipe for a disaster ?"

Stiles lets out a surprised giggle before clearing his throat. “Maybe it’s not the cupcakes I’m after,” he retorts, as flirtingly as he can.

Now the Baker is resting his elbows on the counter and his face is 2 1/2 inches from Stiles’ and when is he going to wake up ?

"Oh, I know," he says, his smile turning feral and Stiles has never felt more like a cupcake himself, "it’s my buns you’re after - and I can safely say that the interest is mutual."


End file.
